I don’t want my life’s meaning determined by an invisible,
unaccountable, mythical, supernatural authority figure who allegedly
“works in mysterious ways.”* Handing off my sense of meaning to such a
vague character would deprive me of creating meaning for my own life.

To Christian ears this often sounds like arrogance, but it isn’t. It
sounds as though I’m putting myself above the Almighty, but that’s
impossible. I can’t put myself above something that I don’t believe
exists. If someone asked you your appraisal of the mightiness of Zeus,
would your denial of Zeus’ existence be arrogance? No. Your disbelief in
Zeus is probably identical to my disbelief in God.

I do understand the emotional appeal of believing one is part of a
grand story that will go on forever. There was a time I shared that
belief.

When I realized my cherished beliefs were flawed, the loss of my
prospective afterlife was the most difficult part to accept. I was
really looking forward to an afterlife, provided it didn’t get too
boring.

However, within a couple weeks of my loss of faith, while walking on
Michigan Ave. near Greenfield, I was struck by a powerful realization.
As I neared the K-Mart parking lot I had an epiphany:

This life and my present awareness became vastly more precious. When I
was a believer, I had been in the Augustine and Kierkegaard funk of
life—this “test for the afterlife,” this “vale of tears,” this “mortal
coil.” Suddenly I shed all that dreariness and began to appreciate the
fact that I’m here at all. Life became more valuable and my ability to
create meaning became a part of what freedom means to me today, decades
later.

I also became a much happier person—this too was a surprise.

There is a kind of “optical illusion” quality to differences of
belief. When I believed in God, my faith was linked to very basic
concepts—particularly my sense of value. I was surprised to discover
that changing my answer on the God question resulted in almost no
changes in my sense of value.

So where do I find meaning? Are there people I love? Yes. Are there
creatures that are capable of pleasure and suffering? Yes. There’s
plenty of meaning in all that already.

Let’s get to the blog post.

The link title suggests that the post is about hope. Actually, the
post is about meaning. The two concepts do overlap but they are
different. I’ll stick to the (familiar) argument in the post regarding
whether atheists can have meaning in their lives. (Inhale, exhale.)

Just so you know, Christians can sound extremely condescending when
this argument is presented. We give this a pass because of the “optical
illusion” problem mentioned above. You’re probably not trying to
condescend. It’s forgiven. But please consider this: Christians do not have a monopoly on living a meaningful life.

OK, let’s get into this. The book excerpt by Dr. William Lane Craig
has a lot of problems but I’ll stick with the most important ones.

Dr. Craig’s argument uses the “ultimate” rhetorical device:

If each individual person passes out of existence when he dies, then what ultimate meaning can be given to his life?

Does it really matter whether he ever existed at all?

It might be said that his life was important because it influenced
others or affected the course of history. But this only shows a relative
significance to his life, not an ultimate significance.

I thought gluttony was supposed to be a sin—how much significance
does a guy need? The word “ultimate” appears 14 times in the blog post
and his argument depends upon the word. Well, any amount is
insignificant when compared to the eternal and infinite. The comparison
is a rhetorical device. It dismisses the temporary and the finite—what
Craig calls “relative”—as meaningless.

By analogy, the number one-million is greater than eleven. “Ah, but
they are both equally insignificant when compared to infinity!” No
mathematician would find this infinity gambit interesting. One-million
is still more than eleven, relative claim though it is.

The Craig excerpt concludes with some very brief summaries of
literature, cherry-picked from existentialists. I’d gone through my own
existentialism phase and Craig gets some of this stuff wrong, but that’s
beside the point. Existentialists do not speak for most atheists (at
least not ones outside of France).

In my experience, most atheists in the English-speaking world are
rationalists. Very few are nihilists (which is what Craig’s argument
suggests). There are plenty of atheists who are more eloquent on this
subject than I—if you want, I can provide plenty of links. For now, I’ll
refer you to Julia Sweeney’s excellent story on This American Life:http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/290/godless-america?act=2

The full audio is available at the link. Her story is very similar to
mine, including her similar epiphany on life. It’s heartfelt, funny,
and more representative of the naturalism shared by most of the atheists
I know.

*This is leaving aside the horrible personage depicted in a famous collection of ancient Jewish folk literature.